by Jillian Hart
Danger. He’d been a lawman a good many years and could scent trouble like a hunting dog on a trail. So he knew where these thoughts were bound to take him.
“Why, good afternoon, Mr. Gatlin.” Louisa Montgomery sidled up to him like a panther stalking prey. “What a coincidence. I was just telling Mother—”
“Excuse me, ma’am.” He tipped his hat, eager to be off. He wanted to explain away this intense attraction to Sarah Redding as the simple need of a man for a woman.
Then why wasn’t it any woman? Why did it have to be Sarah? Only Sarah?
Panic skidded through him. He’d rather face an armed gang of escaped felons than feel this intense need for a woman, for anyone.
Still, his thoughts returned to Sarah.
Frustrated, he jammed the bag of nails into his shirt pocket and unwrapped his reins from the hitching post.
She shouldn’t have run off like that and left Gage standing on the sidewalk. He’d been polite, that was all. She had been the problem. She looked at him and hoped. She knew better, knew they didn’t want the same things from life, and still she couldn’t help it.
So, she’d been rude, and she regretted it. How could she mend things now? It was too late, anyway. He was busy with his horses and she was moving to town. They’d likely never have to do more than nod politely as they passed on the street.
The mercantile wasn’t busy, and so the bell above the door jangled cheerfully as Sarah stepped inside. The scent of cinnamon and sugar blended with the brine of the pickle barrel, and she wove through the canned goods, looking for Ella.
There she was. Standing at the yard goods counter, her hands clasped behind her back as she gazed into a glass case. Love for her daughter burned deep inside. Forget Gage Gatlin. Sarah had what truly mattered.
“Hey, sweetie.” Sarah fished a nickel out of her pocket. “I saved this for you. Thought you might want something special to wear for your first day of school.”
“Five whole cents! For me?” Ella’s eyes lit like Christmas morning. “I can buy some hair ribbons with that. What should I get? The red is pretty, but I like the pink best.”
“The pink would look awful pretty on my girl.”
Ella beamed. “Then I want two pink ones, please.”
As the ribbons were cut and wrapped, Sarah noticed how Ella lingered at the cotton fabrics. There was a pretty pink calico that would match the ribbon perfectly. Ella didn’t say one word as they turned to leave, but Sarah wished more than anything she could afford that cloth.
All things worked out in time. Two weeks ago she feared they would never be able to leave Milt’s shanty. Now they had a cozy room at the boarding house.
Who knows? Maybe in two more weeks she wouldn’t want to run at the sight of Gage approaching her on the boardwalk. Maybe she’d be able to put aside the memory of their kiss and the thrill of being in his arms.
Surely this affection she felt for him would change like the seasons. With any luck, she’d get a full-time job and move on with her life.
Maybe one of the three letters in her reticule held the answer.
“You’re too slow,” Pearl snapped as she yanked the platter of eggs from Sarah’s grip. Morning light turned the shabby kitchen golden and illuminated the disdain on her aunt’s face. “Think you don’t owe me nothin’ on your last day here?”
Sarah bit her lip. This would be the last morning she would have to hold her tongue while she worked as fast as she could. She flipped the bubbling pancakes and, while they sizzled, forked the salt pork from the skillet.
“She’ll be back,” Milt pronounced from the head of the table as he chewed with a mouth full of eggs. “This world’s too tough for a woman alone. You found that out the hard way, Pearl—”
Sarah handed the full platter to Junior and rescued the last batch of pancakes from the griddle.
Done. She’d let Pearl talk her into cooking this last time, but now she was free. Free!
Baby Davie started crying. Two of the boys began arguing. Sarah untied her apron, tucked it over her arm, and took two full plates with her.
“I’m not very hungry.” Ella sat on the back step, staring down at her shoes. They were worn, but a good coat of polish had covered up the scuffs.
“Eat what you can, because it’s a big morning.” Sarah settled down beside her daughter. “Lucy ought to be coming along any minute now.”
“She’s gonna let me ride Scout with her. At least that’s the good part.”
“The good part will be having your best friend at school with you. You won’t be alone.”
Ella did her best and took a bite of pancake. “I hope I can sit next to Lucy. Wait, she’s coming now.”
“That can’t be Lucy.” Sarah squinted into the sun, trying to make out the driver of the buggy. Lucy was too young to drive a team, wasn’t she?
She was holding the reins, but she wasn’t alone. Gage towered on the seat next to her.
“’Mornin’, Sarah.”
What had she promised herself? That this affection she felt for him would eventually fade? That wasn’t how it felt when he smiled at her. “Are you driving the girls to school?”
“No, figure they’ll be happy enough riding together to town.” He whipped off his hat and tossed it into the buggy. “I got to thinking. How are you going to move today with no horse and buggy?”
“I have two good feet. I’ll make quite a few trips, but it can be easily done—” That wasn’t entirely true, but it was none of Gage’s concern. “Ella, don’t forget your lunch pail and schoolbooks.”
Lucy untied Scout from the back of the buggy and Ella raced to gather her things.
Gage raked his fingers through his tousled hair. “I got to admit it makes me uncomfortable, Sarah. I don’t know what happened, but it seems we’re not friends anymore.”
“Maybe that is my fault, and I should apologize.” She lifted her chin. If he could face the truth, then so could she. “I didn’t mean to be so bold. I can only claim loneliness as a reason I tried to…well, I tried to kiss you that night.”
“I had the same problem.” He flashed her a shy grin. “Guess women have the same needs, and as you well know, it’s hard being alone.”
She blushed, too. “Fine. I guess we’ve come to an understanding? That you took advantage of me?”
“Is that the way it was? I seem to remember you being to blame—” He chuckled. “Maybe things can get back to normal between us. I’d like that.”
“Me, too. I’m glad we can be friends again.” She wanted to say the word before he did. Friends. “Is that why you’re here? To volunteer your horse and buggy?”
“You know I am.” He knelt at Scout’s side to give Lucy a hand up. “Come on over here, Ella. You’re next.”
Ella’s eyes widened. Always shy, she laid a tentative hand on Gage’s broad shoulder and placed her shoe in his hand. He hefted her up and she slid onto the blanket behind the saddle.
He dusted off his hands. “You girls be good. Lucy, keep Scout to a walk.”
“I know.” Lucy rolled her eyes and touched her heels to the mare’s sides.
“’Bye, Ma!” Ella’s excitement and trepidation was contagious as she held on tight.
“Hard watching her go?”
“Not at all. As long as my eyes stop blurring.”
“She’ll be all right. Lucy will watch out for her.” Gage rescued his hat from the seat. “You need help loading?”
“I’m not sure how Milt will take that.” She gestured to the man on the front porch, mouth clamped tight, face ruddy. “I can manage.”
“Fine. Then I’ll head home. Better take the road, though. Doesn’t look like Milt wants me on his land.” Something that seemed like sympathy flickered in his eyes.
She tried not to hold it against him. “I’ll return the team as soon as I can.”
“I’m not worried. Hey—” he began walking backward down the road “—how did those letters work out? Did you get good news?”
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“Good enough. I have an interview at the end of the week.” Excitement shivered through her.
“That’s great news. I’m glad for you, Sarah.”
“I’m not counting my chickens yet.”
He lifted his hand, too far away to reply.
She couldn’t deny a certain tenderness rising within her as she watched him round a bend and disappear from her sight.
He’d lent her a team and buggy. He’d apologized. He wanted to be friends again.
Was it possible? Would she be able to forget the intense heat of his kiss and the tenderness she’d felt in his arms?
No. Not a chance. Not as long as she lived.
“Ma! Ma!” Ella burst into the room, braids flying as she skidded to a stop on the polished wood floor. “I had the best day ever.”
“Baby, I’m so glad.” Sarah knelt and felt as warm as toast when Ella’s arms wrapped around her neck. “I guess this means you liked your teacher.”
“She let me share a desk with Lucy! And guess what? There’s this other girl who got sick last year, too, and I’m not as far behind as her. I can’t wait till tomorrow.”
“Neither can I.” Happiness filled her up like a big fluffy cloud. “Go take off your hair ribbons and change into your play dress.”
“Lucy’s pa said I could come home with them. There’s a new filly that was just born and I gotta see her. Please?”
Sarah fetched Ella’s yellow calico from the hook in the closet. “Sure. It will keep you busy while I finish unpacking. What do you think of our room?”
“It’s the best room ever.” Ella shimmied out of her good dress. “’Cuz it’s ours.”
“That’s what I think, too.” Sarah plopped the calico over Ella’s head.
While Ella jammed her arms into the sleeves and buttoned up, Sarah removed the brand-new hair ribbons and stowed them on the bureau that came with the room.
Sunshine streamed through lace curtains, ones Sarah had made long ago. Other treasures dotted the furnished room—her wedding ring quilt, doilies her mother had crocheted and the quilted throw she’d made from scraps of Ella’s baby clothes. Tears ached in Sarah’s throat as she ran her fingertip across her jewel box.
It wasn’t a house, as she’d wanted, but this did feel like home.
A quick rap on the door broke into her thoughts. She wasn’t surprised to spy Gage in the mirror’s reflection as he smiled down at Ella, who’d pulled open the door.
“Are you girls ready to go? Scout is down there chomping at the bit.” He caught Sarah’s gaze in the mirror and winked. “Go on, I’ll catch up to you two.”
“You can’t catch us, Pa! Scout’s too fast.” Lucy appeared at his side and grabbed Ella by the hand.
The two girls raced off, the strikes of their shoes in the hallway growing more faint until there was only silence.
“Nice place you got.” Gage held his hat in his hands, scanning the room. “You and Ella ought to be real happy here.”
“It’s a whole new start for us.”
“I hope it goes real well for you, Sarah. Is there anything more I can do? A trunk you need hauled up those stairs? You name it, I’ll do it.”
His eyes grew dark. His gaze slid to her mouth. She noticed how fast his chest rose and fell, and a lightning-quick jolt of desire skimmed through her.
As wrong as it was. She was dreaming if she thought Gage desired her. One-sided, that’s what this was, and she had to remember that. There was no double meaning behind his offer to do anything she wished.
“As you can see, I’m all settled in. I can’t tell you how handy it was having the use of your buggy. I thought moving would take the entire day, but it didn’t. I have spare time, and I hardly know what to do with myself.”
“Tell you what. Since your girl will be out at my place anyhow, why don’t you come, too?”
There was no flicker of want in his eyes, no invitation in the crook of his smile. Just one friend asking another over to visit. It was as simple as that. “I suppose I could be talked into it.”
“Fine. Then I’ll put some steaks on to grill—”
“You cook?”
“Sure. Some folks say I’m pretty good.” Dimples dug into his cheeks as he grinned. “Care to find out?”
“I’m not sure I should risk it.”
“Worried, huh? Go ahead, doubt my abilities. I’ll prove you wrong.”
“You sound awfully sure of yourself.”
“I’m good and I know it.”
The trouble was, that he did. “I wouldn’t say good, exactly. More like pompous. Arrogant. Misguided.”
“Sure, that’s what you think now. Wait until you taste my grill sauce.”
“Sauce? You mean, gravy.”
“You heard me.” He headed for the hallway. “You’re in trouble now because I’m going to prove to you I’m a great cook.”
“There you go again. Overconfident. Too sure of yourself.”
“It’s a gift, what can I say?” His wink made her laugh. “See you soon.”
She was still laughing as his boots rang in the stairwell. The warmth in her chest remained as she parted the curtains to watch him on the street below.
She couldn’t help wanting him. What a sight he was, in denim and blue muslin, untethering his mare. The hardware store owner called out to him and they exchanged friendly words. No wonder everyone thought so well of Gage. He stood tall, unwavering, a man easy to look up to. And as friendly as could be.
Wasn’t that the problem? Every time she was with him, he made her care for him more. What was she going to do?
She frowned at her reflection in the bureau’s beveled mirror. She could see the years on her face. Her dress was plain, the fraying at the cuffs and collar stayed by a careful use of needle and thread, but it was there.
It shouldn’t matter how she looked. What mattered was providing a good life for Ella. The trunk tucked beneath the window held her few good dresses, saved over the past year so when she started back to work, she wouldn’t need to spend precious dollars on clothes.
She wouldn’t lie to herself. It was her pride again, always getting her into trouble, but she wanted to wear something with a little color in it. Something that made her feel like a woman and not the poor relation the Owenses had taken in.
The snap of the buckles echoed in the quiet room and she lifted the trunk’s heavy lid. The scent of dried roses tickled her nose as she reached in to lift back the sheets she’d used to wrap her most valued possessions.
There, on top, was her yellow gingham. Trimmed in lace she’d tatted and real satin ribbon. The dress she’d sewn to wear to her best friend’s wedding two years ago, during much better times. The best dress she’d ever owned.
Where had the matching bonnet gone? She carefully lifted the hat partition from inside the trunk lid and spotted a yellow strip of matching ribbon.
“Sarah?” Mrs. Flannery, who owned the boarding house, poked her head into the room. “Was that Mr. Gatlin I saw leaving my establishment?”
“One and the same.” Sarah stood and shook the wrinkles from her gingham dress. “He was only here for a few minutes. If that’s a problem—”
“Goodness me, no. Practically a legend, you know. Several years back, he used to be in all the newspapers. Then again, you probably knew that.”
“I was in Idaho Territory then.”
“You didn’t hear about the prison break, out Deer Lodge way?” Mary bustled inside the room, holding hard to her broom. “Ten men, some of the most barbarous murderers the West had ever known escaped the night before they were to be put to death.”
“Gage was one of the Rangers sent to find them?”
Nodding, Mary settled into the wing-backed chair by the unlit fireplace. “An entire fortnight the Riders hunted the convicted men, following a path of murder and ruination from Butte all the way to the Badlands.”
“And you know all this from reading the newspaper?”
“Who doesn�
�t? Sarah, you ought to know this. Gage didn’t tell you?”
“No. He doesn’t talk about being a lawman.”
“Then you listen up. This is the man who’s courting you.”
“He’s not courting me.”
Mary waved her comments away. “Winter had set in with a vengeance that time of year, but the Riders refused to let up. Every day innocent people—entire families—were murdered in their beds for the little bit of money and food the outlaws stole from them. The toughest lawmen in the territory were on their trail, and killed one by one until only a single Range Rider remained.”
“Gage?”
“He was the only one who stopped them, but not before more innocent lives were lost. And nearly his own.”
“He was wounded?”
“Gravely. It was in all the papers, week after week, the reports saying they didn’t know if he would live. He pulled through, but I never read his name again. He gave it all up, and to think he’s come here to raise up his girl and marry you.”
“Please, Mary, don’t start that rumor. Gage and I are not courting.”
“You were.”
“We’re friends and nothing more. That’s the truth.”
“If that’s what you want to believe, dear. Now, here’s an extra key for your little girl, just in case. I’ll just put it right here on the mantel. See you bright and early tomorrow morning.”
Mary’s story lingered, and as Sarah changed and replaited her hair, the tale troubled her. The image of Gage as a lone lawman tracking ten cold-blooded killers filled her mind.
“A legend,” Mary had called him.
“Pa!” Lucy shouted through the kitchen window. “Sarah’s here. Quick. You gotta brush your hair or something.”
“I like looking disheveled.” He snatched the boiler pan off the stove. “The women like it.”
“Sarah doesn’t like it.” Lucy scowled at him in that charming way she had that said she thought he was a lost cause. Then she bolted from the room.
He drained the potatoes, watching through the rising steam as Lucy, leading his mare, and Ella, on Scout, met Sarah on the road.
